


Personal Preference

by Pixie_Child



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Angst, Female Homosexuality, Gen, POV Female Character, Post-Canon, Present Tense, Stereotypes, stepsisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-25
Updated: 2010-09-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixie_Child/pseuds/Pixie_Child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Anne just doesn't get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Preference

**Author's Note:**

> Relationship: Femslashy crushes all around  
> Timeline: Post series  
> A/N: Mary Anne annoys me. Can you tell?  
> Feedback: is a must!  
> Disclaimer: Not mine. I play with other people's toys.  
> Posted: September 25, 2010

"But _why_ not?" She asks me for the hundredth time. I sigh.

"I don't know. She's just not."

" _Why_ not?"

"I don't _know_ , Mary Anne." I grit my teeth as I repeat the same answer. "She's just not my type."

"If she's not then who is?" For a second, I wonder if maybe I'm wrong about my stepsister's reasons for all of this. I mean, maybe Mary Anne just wants to set me up with someone so I'll be in a happily-ever-after relationship like her and Logan. "How do you _know_ Kristy's not your type?" Or not.

"I just _do_ , okay? How do you know Logan's yours? Did you ever ask yourself that? What is it about him that attracts you?"

"He looks like Cam Geary."

"And that's it? He looks like a movie star you had a crush on in middle school and you're sure he's the one?" My sister nods and I sigh again. "Let me try to put it another way. Why aren't you attracted to Allen or Bart?" Mary Anne looks aghast.

"I have a boyfriend!" Now, I'm trying to be patient, I really am, but I can't quite stop my eyes from rolling.

"I know you do, Mary Anne, but pretend you don't, okay?"

Her bottom lip quivers. "Why? Did Logan say something to you?"

" _No_. I haven't even _seen_ him since I got here, okay? I'm just saying. _Hypothetically_ , would you ever consider them appealing?" Her eyes are still misty but see seems to be getting over her desire to burst into tears as she shakes her head fervently.

"No way. Allen's gross and Bart smokes."

I nod. "What about Sam Thomas?"

" _Eww!_ He's like a brother!"

"Or that new guy you told me about? The one who moved in down the street from Claudia."

"He's not my type." Mary Anne says offhand. I want to pump my fist in the air or do a little Ducky-esque victory dance, but I don't. I just recline back on my bed and bull out my new collection of ghost stories Maggie gave me as a going-away-for-the-summer gift.

"Exactly." I make sure to keep the triumph out of my voice. "Just because I like girls doesn't mean I like _all_ girls."

For the next little while, it's so quiet I can almost believe she's left the room except I can practically _hear_ the wheels turning in her head. I hope I've finally got my point across.

I'm almost through the story I started when she speaks again.

"So Logan didn't say anything about wanting to break up with me?" Mary Anne asks tentatively.

 _*Really? That's what she's stuck on?*_ I groan and close both my eyes and my book. " _Really._ I haven't spoken to him since last summer." I don't mention I made a point of avoiding him at Christmas break when I came down. All those late night phone calls when Mom had to unplug the phone in their room so Richard wouldn't hear it ring and Mary Anne _still_ doesn't get it? I put my book away and stand up. "I was just trying to get my point across." I tell her, exasperated. "Why, are you guys having problems?"

"No way." She bites her lip. "I still don't get it, though. Why won't you go out with Kristy? if she's 'not your type', then who is?" It's her disbelieving tone that breaks me. I want to shake her, but I don't. Instead, I storm over to the bedroom door.

"Fine. You want to know what my type is?" I ask. She nods, oblivious to my frustration. "You are." As quickly as I can, before Mary Anne has a chance to get over her shock, I leave the room and slam the door closed behind me.

Well, this will be an uncomfortable summer.


End file.
